Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first.

Hyperion offers both CDs, and downloads in a number of formats. The site is also available in several languages.

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Your eyes Shine brighter than the sun! Joy and bliss are with you, Tender young lady, You are the light in my eyes. If I were alone with you, Sorrow could not trouble me And I would wish for happiness always!

Your charm is beyond all measure, Just like a special flower; When you walk along the street, I often wait for you there, Even if I must stand for ages In rain, storm and snow; No hardship would deter me, From seeing you my love!

As befits the source of this anonymous poem, this song has such a distinctly traditional feel to it that one can almost sense the flames of an open fire warming a Biedermeyerish musical gathering. A gentle outpouring of impregnable optimism, it encapsulates Mendelssohn’s idealized vein of cosiness – almost unique among the great composers – which has sadly fuelled the wrath of many a detractor down the years.

In resounding roundelays voices of spring break out; they can no longer remain silent, the bliss is just too great! They themselves scarcely know to where they are moved by an old, sweet dream.

The buds are swelling and glowing, and pressing towards the light, awaiting in their yearning fullness a loving hand to pick them. They themselves scarcely know to where they are moved by an old, sweet dream.

And spirits of spring sink down into Man’s breast, and stir within it the roundelay of eternal youthful joy. We ourselves scarcely know to where we are moved by an old, sweet dream.

All around in forest and meadow rings out Many a distant chiming of bells, The breezes stirring but softly, And the little birds singing quietly. And organ sound and choir song Drifting full of devotion along the valley.

How alone am I in the house, In its spacious, silent rooms! All went out to celebrate, Here I can dream in secret. Yonder they exult in joy and jest, While weak and sore grows my heart.

Hark! Why are the shawms resounding, What roams forth so gladly into the distance? Drawing towards the church with bright song A blissful bridal party. And I, I am so very alone! Alas, One might be with me!

The autumn wind rustles through the trees, The night is damp and cold; Wrapped in a grey cloak, I ride alone into the woods.

And as I ride So my thoughts ride ahead of me; They carry me light as air To my beloved’s house.

The hounds bay, the servants appear With flickering candles; I race up the spiral staircase With spurs clanking.

In the light of the carpeted chamber, Where it’s so scented and warm, There my sweetheart waits for me. I fly into her arms!

The wind rushes through the leaves; The oak tree declares: “What do you want, foolish rider, With your foolish dream?”

A breathless perpetuum mobile in Mendelssohn’s best spinning-song style, which suitably gallops along most of the time. This is an unusually sinister text for Mendelssohn, with its powerful images of an agitated horseman excitedly conjuring up a vision of his beloved’s house as he rides along. The broadening of the melodic line as he dreams of luxuriating in his lover’s arms is a particularly grateful touch, as is the moment when his revelry is brutally halted in the last stanza by parallel octaves between the voice and piano’s left hand.